


Varou

by Madame_Butterfly



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Gen, Stuff of Nightmares, Varou, a bit of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 04:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2053158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Butterfly/pseuds/Madame_Butterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki has an unexpected visitor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Varou

**Author's Note:**

> A prompt that I decided to write.
> 
> You had that dream again. The one where the beast with the drooping hands and wicked fangs stares you down from your window. Except the windows open this time—and you’re awake! What happens next? 
> 
> One shot possible two shot.

Loki shrieked when it happened. The stuff of nightmares. He'd fallen asleep on the sofa by the fire, the gas lamps flickered lightly, giving off little light, was he mad?

 

He was alone of course, mama, papa and brother Helblindi were spending the season in Bath while Byleistr was in London.

 

There at the _unlocked_ French door of the drawing room was a creature, large and blonde, matted hair, sharp wicked fangs and giant hands. 

 

Saliva dripping from his fangs he rasped, leaned against the door, much to Loki's dismay.

 

Loki had slowly began to advance on the position of the wolf like creature, he pulled his silk dressing gown tightly around him. The manor is eerily silent, 'cept the rattling against the glass by a branch and the laboured breathing of this 'man-creature'.

 

He slowly reaches forward to the door, in a flash he turns the latch so that the door cannot be opened although he really doubts it will give any kind of protection against this beast.

 

 

“Let me in” it rasps, it's voice is hard and rough, like gravel.

 

 

The air was thick around him, either Loki was hallucinating or mist had begun filling the room around him.

 

 

“Like hell!” He curses

 

 

He thinks he knows what this creature is, he'd heard the coachman discussing them with the coachman, a  _ varou _ , or werewolf in the English tongue. A woman had been found on the edge of the forest torn to ribbons. He could hear the scream of the groundskeeper who found what was left of her from his study.

 

 

The room was bathed in silver moonlight, a gust of wind had come from under the door and blown out the gas lamps. There was just a little glow from the dying fire. The moonlight was slowly receding barely covering the  _ varou,  _ his eyes were now a most peculiar shade of blue and he seemed to be gaining human features. Morphing into a man, a large stout man with flowing blonde hair, his build like that of Lord Odinson on the other side of the forest. He was injured, the blonde fur on his chest was covered in blood, not someone else's blood, his! He could see a large gash on his chest, he was clearly in need of aid.

 

At this point his curiosity got the better of him, shaky hands reached for the door, slowly unlocking it, a gust of wind throws open the French door nearly hitting him, the varou falls into the room, falling on top of him, they both fall to the ground, Loki is pinned. He struggles against the large form. There is now no more moonlight in the room, he is changing, Loki can see.

 

The hair is receding for the most part, his body hair is shortening if a bit long, the gash on his chest is bleeding heavily, though it seems to be closing by itself, Loki does not understand this, it is not possible. 

 

He has the features of a handsome man, a familiar man, Thor Odinson. 

 

At this point Loki has managed to get out from under him, he is able to drag him over to the sofa and prop him up against it, at this point he realised Odinson is...not covering his...delicate areas. He blushes profusely before covering him with a wrap sitting in a chair.

 

His eyes flicker open lazily.

 

“I owe you an explanation, do I not?” He rasps

 

“Oh indeed you do”

 

 


End file.
